Widow's Walk Part 40

"Yes."

"Who pulled the trigger on DeRosa?"

"I don't know. Maybe Felton."

"Because I was getting too close?"

"I don't know how close you were getting," Conroy said, "but you wouldn't go away. Killing you hadn't worked, so he had DeRosa killed to cut you off, and he told me to disappear."

"Which you did."

"Yeah."

"Except." I looked at Ann.

Conroy nodded. His voice was heavy. "Yeah," he said. "And you figured it out."

"Why were you checking Smith out at the gay clubs?" I said.

"You know about that, too," Conroy said wearily.

"We never sleep," I said.

"I was trying to figure out what Shawcross had on him. I got some sort of gay hit off him in the bank. All those boys... I don't know. I just had a suspicion."

"How did Shawcross know?"

"I don't know."

"The name Roy Levesque mean anything?" I said.

"No."

"Larson Graff?"

"No."

"How about Joey Bucci?" I said.

Conroy frowned. "Bucci?"

"Yeah."

"When I was at the bank we lent him some money."

"You remember all the bank loans?" I said.

"No. This one was no interest, open-ended, you know? A gift. Felton told us to do it."

"You know why?"

Conroy shook his head.

"You know where Shawcross is now?"

"No idea."

"Is that his real name."

"No idea."

"Will he come after you when he knows you're talking like this?" Ann said.

"What f.u.c.king difference does it make, Annie?" Conroy said.

Tears formed in Ann Kiley's eyes. Beside her Bobby Kiley's face was pale and bony. He put his hand on his daughter's shoulder. She didn't appear to notice.

"Shawcross has disappeared," I said. "We don't know where he is. We don't even know who he is. He's safe. Reaching back here for Conroy is a risk that doesn't make any sense."

Conroy shrugged.

"We can keep Ann out of it," Kiley said. "He makes a couple of minor adjustments, which we can help him with, Annie's name never has to come up."

"You okay with that?" I said to Conroy.

He nodded.

"You?" Bobby Kiley said to me.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm all right with that."

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE.

Abner Grove wore a blue polo shirt and tan slacks, loafers with no socks.

"Casual day?" I said.

Grove smiled. "Every day," he said.

I looked at Rita.

"Abner's so good," Rita said, "he can get away with pretty much anything he wants to."

"He married?" I said.

"Sadly yes," Rita said.

Grove waited patiently while we discussed him.

Then he said, "A loan to value is one where the bank a.s.sumes all risk. I don't know the details yet of what Soldiers Field and Pequod were doing. It will take years to peel all that away. But here's how an LTV can work."

"LTV?" I said.

"Loan to value," Grove said. There was a hint of scorn in his voice.

"That's right," I said.

Grove frowned for a minute, then went on, as if I hadn't teased him.

"I don't want to keep saying Soldiers Field Development every time," Grove said, "so we'll call them Soldier, and we'll call the bank Pequod. Soldier has some property it wishes, or appears to wish, to develop. It borrows say fifty thousand dollars from Pequod and buys the land. It then flips it."

"That is, sells it back and forth," I said. "With somebody in on the deal."

"Yes. Each time inflating the cost and getting a new loan from Pequod to cover it."

"Doesn't the bank get suspicious?" I said.

"Of course," Grove said. "Finally, let's say, Soldier has now inflated the value of this property to a million dollars, and it's quote unquote owned by their flipping partner. Soldier goes to Pequod for an ADC loan."

"Which would be?" I said.

"Acquisition, development, and construction. They get a loan to value-which is to say that the loan covers all costs, including fees and even interest on the loan for the first two years. There is no down payment."

"I'm beginning to see how this might work out," I said.

"After a time, Soldier defaults on the loan, government insurance covers the loss, and everybody makes a lot of money."

"Doesn't the government catch on after a while?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes Pequod might sell the loan to a sister inst.i.tution, which gets it off Pequod's books, so that when it defaults it defaults on the sister bank."

"And what's the sister bank get out of that?" I said.

Grove smiled. "Reciprocity," he said.

I looked at Rita. She was wearing a bright green suit today, long jacket, short shirt. Her hair was gleaming. She was leaning back in her chair with her spectacular legs crossed, one foot swinging gently. Her shoes were black.

"Talk a little about interest rates," Rita said to Grove.

"One of the things a bank will do, obviously, to attract depositors is to pay high interest rates. But if you pay too much interest you can't make a profit."

"You have to charge more interest than you pay," I said.

"There you go," Grove said. "You'll make a banker yet. Pequod paid the highest interest in the area. Significantly higher. Possibly because they were not worried about profit."

"Because they were simply Soldier's vehicle for fraud," I said.

"Yes."

"Would the president of Pequod have to know?"

"Almost certainly," Grove said. "But that said, once you got your own man in there..."

"Conroy," I said.

He nodded. "Then, while he would know what was going on, he wouldn't have to be involved. He could just get out of the way and let Conroy run the scam."

"How much money are we talking about?" I said.

Grove shrugged, put his head back, pursed his lips, and thought about it.

"A hundred million dollars would not be out of the question," he said.

Rita said, "Jesus Christ!"

"People have been killed for less," I said.

"Mind you, this is all hypothetical," Grove said. "We may never prove any of it."

"We're not compelled to prove any of it, About," Rita said. "We're only on the hook for defending Mary Smith."

"That would be your area," Grove said.

"It would," Rita said.

"You have questions," Grove said, "feel free to call me."

"I'll have questions," I said.

Grove nodded, still with a hint of scorn, and went out.

"Grove know his stuff?" I said.

"He knows everything there is to know about finance law. He knows almost nothing about anything else."

"Turned you down?"

Rita smiled. "Dumb b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she said.

Rita and I looked at each other for a moment.

Rita waggled her knees at me.